


Changed

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-01
Updated: 2006-03-01
Packaged: 2018-08-15 21:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8073655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: T'Pol's thoughts at the end of 3.10 "Similitude." (03/07/2004)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

The Captain speaks of sacrifice, and loss. He looks haggard, and driven. I know that in the last two days he has lost yet more of that questing innocence that caused me such exasperation in the first year of our mission. There is little left of that wide-eyed explorer that welcomed contact with new civilizations.

Now, he greets the universe with distrust and calculation, wondering only what it can do for Earth, for the mission, for him. What happened between him and the man lying in the torpedo tube that turned him even further inward? Whatever it was, it has left him changed.

Changed. I cannot bring myself to look down as Mayweather and Reed close the lid. Nor can I look across at Commander Tucker, whose expression of deep confusion mirrors the feelings churning beneath my frozen facade. So I stare at nothing, allowing my focus to drift, leaving nothing but thoughts and memories to torment me.

Images of him flit through my head. Approaching me in Engineering, in his last hours before he contemplated his hopeless escape. Leaning uncomfortably against the locker in my quarters as he revealed his feelings for me. Looking at me as he pulled back from our kiss. I close my eyes, willing my breathing to slow and the constriction in my throat to relax. I hear the sound of the tube disappearing behind the bay doors, and feel the shudder as it launches. The room stays silent for a few moments, and then the soft strains of some sombre, haunting music fill the air. Feet begin to shuffle out of the room. I open my eyes.

He is looking directly at me, still with that same puzzled frown. I hope that Malcolm, or the Doctor, will be able to speak to him of the events leading up to this ceremony, and give him some peace of mind. For I know that the Captain will have no comfort to offer him. And if he were to come to me, expecting an emotionless analysis of what had transpired, clarity and logic, an explanation of a situation that had left all of us groping for our old familiar frames of reference?

I follow Phlox from the armoury, feeling his gaze on me, knowing that he still stood there, silently pleading for answers. How can I give him answers when I have none myself? For I am changed, and I no longer know who I am. But I am afraid that when the Captain cannot give him those answers, sooner or later, he will come to me. And I will have nothing to give him.


End file.
